When Things Fall Apart
by NavyStrong42099
Summary: They knew it couldn't have lasted forever. But nothing had them prepared for the day when the Office of Special Projects was compromised. What began as a simple case investigating the most dangerous cartel in Los Angeles turned into a fight for their family. Wounded and hunted, Kensi, Deeks, Sam, and Callen must take down the people that ruined everything- and above all survive.
1. Crumbling

**Author's Note:**

**So this idea popped into my head, and it kinda wouldn't leave me alone. With all of the recent episodes, I thought I'd stray a little away from what's going on in the season right now. This is set after season five, and Deeks and Kensi still haven't quite declared their thing official. My penname, NavyStrong42099, is dedicated to my brother. Please let me know if you want me to continue this.**

**-C**

**Disclaimer: I do not own NCIS: Los Angeles, nor will I ever, and this applies for every chapter that follows.**

* * *

**Six Hours Ago**

"_You good, Kens?" Deeks asked, tossing his famous concerned glance at her as she zipped up her leather jacket._

_"I'm good. Just waiting for this op to be over with already," she let out an exasperated sigh. Kensi turned away from the mirror and faced Deeks. _

_"Right. Well, Sam and I will be in overwatch. If everything goes according to plan, we'll have time to get a couple of beers tonight." The detective ran a hand nervously through his shaggy locks. _

_Kensi gave him a small smile. "Sounds like a plan to me."_

_Somebody cleared their throat a few feet away, and the partners finally noticed Callen standing there expectantly. Once the senior agent was sure that he wasn't interrupting anything, he spoke. _

_"Time to go. The meet's set an hour from now."_

_"That's my cue," Kensi said, shoving her hands deep into her pocket and following Callen to the armory._

Things didn't go according to plan. There were no celebratory beers that night.

* * *

Deeks didn't understand how anything could go so wrong. After all, the case started on any normal day.

* * *

**Two Weeks Ago**

"_Sean Connery is the best bond, there's no question about it," Callen argued. "All the other guys are too flashy."_

_"Too flashy?" Sam chuckled. "Connery started the whole 'playboy' thing. That's not who Bond was in Fleming's novels."_

_"Nah, I have to agree with Callen here. He was definitely the best," Deeks spoke up. _

_"You have to agree with me, Kensi," Sam asked the younger agent._

_The brunette opened her mouth to speak, but Deeks cut her off. "You're really gonna ask Kensi about comparing _books _to _movies_?"_

_"Hey!" she protested. _

_"He does have a point," Callen mused._

_"Daniel Craig brings out the character that Ian Fleming originally wrote in the books. Therefore, he is the best Bond."_

_Kensi made a face. "But Pierce Brosnan is way cuter than the others."_

_The three males shot her a look of disgust. _

_"007, reporting for duty!" Eric called from the staircase, breaking up the long debate. "Sorry to ruin the fun, but we have a high profile case. And I will have you know that Daniel Craig obviously makes the coolest James Bond."_

_"See?" Sam waved his arms fiercely as the team made their way upstairs._

* * *

"We gotta find them," Deeks grimaced, clutching his arm in pain.

Sam gave him a mournful look. "If they found us here, they already found Kensi and G."

* * *

_"Meet the Salinas Cartel, although, you probably should have already heard of them," Nell began the briefing._

_Kensi shook her head. "Doesn't ring a bell."_

_Deeks raised his eyebrows. "Seriously? These guys fund every homegrown terrorist organization in the continental U.S. I can't begin to count how many operation the LAPD alone has conducted to try and topple their business."_

_"As Deeks was saying, they wouldn't have come into our jurisdiction. That is, until two days ago," Eric added. He pulled up a picture on screen. "This is Navy Admiral Joshua Lawrence. He washed up on the beach near Coronado with his throat slit in an X pattern."_

_More gruesome photographs of the crime scene were revealed, showing the details of how the Admiral was murdered._

_"It's the sign of the Salinas Cartel. Two of our undercover operators were found like this," Deeks growled._

_"And of course, NCIS in San Diego looked into Lawrence's records to try to find out why the Salinas family would take an interest in him," Nell continued to explain._

_"It was found that he was working for the Salinas Cartel. He helped them conduct business all along the west coast and even used Naval ships to carry merchandise transglobally. They must have had a fallout because as you can see, he is very dead," Eric continued._

_"Why is NCIS in San Diego handing this over to us?" Callen inquired._

_"Because, Mr. Callen, they are a bit overwhelmed in their case load right now. With so little man power, they thought it better to let an elite team carry out this mission," Hetty answered as she prowled through the doorway._

_"Not to mention that Los Angeles is the center of their operations north of the border," Deeks offered some insight._

_"So what's the plan here?" Kensi inquired, not taking her eyes off the screen. "Clearly other operations have failed."_

_"Lucky for us," Nell said, "Lawrence wasn't the only one aiding the Salinas Cartel."_

_"His son, Patrick Lawrence, was dishonorably discharged from the Navy eight years ago. After seeing what happened to his father, he agreed to help us," Eric finished._

_"Mr. Lawrence has agreed to insert two operatives in the ranks of the Salinas Cartel with the promise of expanding their business to the east coast. They are an extremely allusive power in the underworld, ladies and gentlemen. Ms. Blye and Mr. Callen will be on the ground, and-"_

_Deeks cut Hetty off. "You're splitting us up?"_

_"Need I remind you that this is a _team_, Mr. Deeks? Their language skills will be pertinent to this case. Our mission is to find whoever killed Admiral Lawrence, flip him, and then DEA can handle taking down the rest of the cartel from there. You and Mr. Hanna will conduct overwatch for the duration of this operation."_

* * *

"Well, we need to try!" Deeks protested angrily. He kicked the closest piece of rubble, sending a red hot pain up his already bruised foot.

"I didn't say we wouldn't."

* * *

**One Week Ago**

"_The Salinas Cartel has a lot of contacts," Deeks murmured, snapping another picture of the meeting going on._

_"It's nothing we haven't handled before," Sam reassured him._

_"Problem is, nobody can ever link anybody to the head of it and what not. They have connections everywhere, Sam. It's why nobody can get close."_

_The ex-Navy SEAL rolled this over in his head before pressing his com closer in his ear, as if that would help make out what was being discussed at the meeting. "We're not like other agencies. Not even like other divisions of NCIS. They're legends are solid. Nobody knows who we are."_

_"I hope not," Deeks muttered. "Let's move. It looks like the meeting's over."_

* * *

What gave them the upper hand was the exact thing that made them fall so far.

* * *

**Twenty-Four Hours Ago**

"_We're being given the location of the drug supply tomorrow," Callen told them in the boat shed late one night. "Thanks to Lawrence's track record with the cartel, they were quick to trust us."_

_"The Wonder Twins said that there's been a lot of activity on your accounts. So far your legends are holding up, but just be careful," Sam warned them._

_Kensi flicked a finger against her beer bottle. "Hopefully this will be over soon."_

_"Yeah, but we won't make a dent in the cartel's operation," Deeks pointed out._

_"Our job is to gain sufficient evidence to indict the person who killed Admiral Lawrence, not take down the cartel."_

"_Kensi's right. The DEA haven't left Hetty alone since we started this," the team leader commented. "It'll all come into play in the morning. Go home and get some sleep. You've earned it."_

* * *

How did it come to this?

* * *

**Five Hours Ago**

_"Everything's set. We'll have the truck pick up the supplies and bring them to the cargo ship. Our contact will make sure it reaches New York Harbor safely and deliver it to your contact there," Callen explained to a man they had come to know as Axel. It wasn't his real name by any means, but it was a start._

_Axel smiled crookedly and paced the length of the warehouse slowly. _

_From afar, an uneasy feeling churned in Deeks's stomach._

"_Not today."_

_With an ear-shattering noise, the coms broke out, and the line went out. Deeks removed it and smashed it underneath his foot in anger. Damn! They were too far away from the warehouse._

"_We gotta move," Sam urged._

_Deeks didn't need to be told twice. He grabbed his gun, ensured that it was loaded, and raced after the senior agent. They picked their way down the hill slope the had been forced to park at the top of until the pair finally hit concrete. Deeks approached the warehouse stealthily, worry groping at his heart every inch of the way._

_When the temporary partners came at a side door, they forced it open and were disappointed to find a lack of any human presence. Deeks yelled and slammed his fist against the wall._

"_Let's head back to Ops. We'll find them from there," Sam said as he holstered his gun. _

* * *

Returning to the ancient Spanish mission had been the worst mistake of their lives. To the agents' credit, there was no way they could have spotted the tail. It had consisted of multiple cars constantly changing. But there was no placation for their mistake now.

Deeks howled, staring at the burning remains of the Office of Special Projects. Rubble was blown everywhere. Fire trucks and ambulances populated the normally quiet street, hurrying people to emergency rooms or covering their bodies with sheets.

"They found us," the detective whispered hollowly. "What was it, six years? And not even the neighbors knew? THIS IS OUR FAULT."

"Deeks. Deeks, we have to move. The Salinas Cartel is going to be looking for us, and the best thing we can do is distance ourselves. Come on. Kensi and Callen need our help." The ex-Navy SEAL managed to pull Deeks away from where he was rooted to the concrete.

"Nell…Eric…Hetty? Sam, they could all be- we don't know if- I would never forgive myself-"

"Get your head in the game, Deeks!" Sam brought him back to his senses. He faced the blond surfer. "Now we have our friends out there who need our help. And we have a mission, and we'll be damned if we don't get the job done- one way or another."

The detective's blue eyes narrowed and gave him a curt nod. The Salinas Cartel had hurt what mattered most to them, and they were sadly wrong if they thought they would walk away without some scars of their own.

"Let's find Kensi and Callen. And then we'll kick their ass."

**Thoughts?**


	2. Regrouping

**Author's Note:**

**Wow guys! Thanks so much for all of the reviews, favorites, and follows. As requested, here is chapter two. Please let me know what you think! I always take suggestions into consideration.**

**-C**

* * *

_ "What's the status gentlemen?" Hetty asked as she met them on the landing of the stairs on their way up to ops._

_ "We lost all contact with Kensi and Callen. Eric and Nell thought that they might have a lead so we were going to talk to them now," Sam briefly explained. It was evident that the senior agent was anxious to get back in the field and do some ground work. _

_ Deeks kept his lips firmly pressed in a tight line, afraid of the whirl of _unkind _comments that he would bombard Hetty with. Lingual experience be damned- they knew that splitting up either of the pairs never ended well._

_ "Very well," she answered curtly and returned to her desk._

_ Sam and Deeks trotted up the rest of the stairs and found themselves in ops. Eric and Nell crowded the big screen, watching the same video feed over and over again._

_ "What do we have?" The blond inquired._

_ Eric sighed. "Not much. They left the warehouse in three SUVs. Nell and I tracked them for a few blocks before losing them completely."_

_ "No luck tracking their cell phones either," Nell added. "They were destroyed."_

_ "So we have nothing," Deeks mumbled._

_ "Not necessarily. We can get in touch with Patrick Lawrence. He's bound to know where they would take Kensi and Callen. And that's presuming that they're covers were blown. For all we know their cells could have been dumped and are continuing with the op," Sam argued._

_ "They would have contacted us."_

_ "One step at a time. Let's get in touch with Lawrence."_

_ The Wonder Twins spent the next ten minutes trying to reach their inside man. When it rang incessantly every time, they resorted to tracking it._

_ "It shows that he's near an old plant for demolishing cars just fifteen minutes south of the warehouse," Nell relayed. "Sending coordinates to you now."_

_ "Thanks guys, you're the best," Sam dismissed. Him and Deeks were heading out of the operations center when another techie that they barely knew captured their attention._

_ "Code Red! How did they…I just stepped out to get a coffee…"_

_ "What is it?" Sam demanded, coming up behind the guy in his twenties._

_ "Bruce? Code Red means that…oh God. I'm getting Hetty!" Nell realized with wide eyes. The petite intelligence analyst took off running. Eric looked extremely panicked as well._

_ Deeks squinted at Bruce's screen, which was showing security cameras outside of the building. Men were spotted on almost every one. Cartel members._

_ "Deeks, let's go!" Sam barked. Together, the two agents sprinted down the steps, past Nell at Hetty's desk, and outside. They were fifteen yards outside the main doors when they caught a glimpse of the darkened SUV burning rubber to get away._

_ "They must have followed us here from the meet. Kensi and Callen were clearly blown," Deeks reasoned._

_ Sam's eyebrows furrowed in thought. "On the tape, they were going away from the building…not to it. Which means-"_

_ The detective, picking up on Sam's implications, immediately reached for the door, only to be blown back several feet by an explosion that brought part of the roof down on him; everything went dark._

* * *

Walking away from the burning ruins of the Spanish mission was easily the hardest thing Deeks had ever done. As close as Sam was to the work place, he had been hardened for warfare. The detective wondered how many other times this had happened: the grizzled agent being forced to move on from something he loved so much. For Deeks, it was summoning up emotions he had buried as a child. And now the feeling left an aching feeling in his heart.

Deeks held his arm close to his body, afraid to jolt it too much. Thankfully it was getting dark and passing civilians wouldn't detect the blood stains on the sleeve of his shirt. Part of the roof had left a huge gash in his right bicep, pretty much incapacitating it.

* * *

_"Deeks! Deeks, can you hear me?" A voice questioned fiercely from above._

_ A harsh light was breaking through the detective's closed eyelids. He blinked the brilliance away, only to realize that it was caused by growing flames from what was formally the Office of Special Projects._

_ He bolted straight up, trying to get his bearings. They were now across the street and several ambulances and fire trucks were already on scene._

_ "What happened?" He moaned, holding his head in pain._

_ "Our operation was blown from the beginning. There's gotta be a mole in our division. We were followed back to ops, and…" Sam broke off, choked with grief. Other than a soot-streaked face, the big guy looked unharmed. He was farther from the building when it exploded. Luckily, it looked as if at least half the building was still intact, even if it was steadily being engulfed in flame. There was a higher chance for survival that way._

_ "We have to go in there," Deeks pleaded. For all the courage in his voice, he was struggling to get to his feet._

_ Sam put a hand on his shoulder to steady him. "There's nothing we can do here."_

_ The detective sighed, knowing he was right. He watched as firefighters aided people getting out of the burning building, but he was too far away to make out any specifics._

_ "I can't just sit back and do nothing."_

_ "We're not," the ex-Navy SEAL assured. "The paramedics, Hetty, and the Wonder Twins will handle things on this front. But right now, Kensi and Callen need our help- something we can't give with a mole in our midst."_

_ "So what now?"_

* * *

"Are you okay?" Sam inquired, checking to see if Deeks was keeping up in the raining night. "You got hit pretty bad."

"It's just a scratch," he answered through clenched teeth. When they had a moment, not only would he need a new shirt but to dress it as well.

"Sure it is. We're almost there; I'll take a look at it then."

"And where is there, exactly?"

"A safe house, kinda."

"Yeah, because that clears things up," Deeks muttered.

They continued a few more blocks until they were in more a rundown area of Los Angeles. Sam ducked into a convenience store that looked like it was ready to foreclose at any day. The windows were dirty and the signs offering bargain deals were hanging on one side. Deeks followed hesitantly. His friend would know what he was doing. But considering the fact that the Salinas Cartel ran the underground of Los Angeles and they were in the middle of it…this wasn't the ideal place to regroup.

He approached the foreign man behind the counter and greeted in a low voice, "As-salam 'alaykum."

"Wa-alaykum as-salam," the clerk returned in disbelief. He shook Sam's hand from across the counter and the two  
continued to converse in Arabic. Deeks hung back a few feet, clutching his bleeding arm. He was tempted to grab a bag of Cheetos of the shelf, but that would be rude. He also didn't want to get blood all over the place.

After a minute or two, Sam beckoned Deeks forward. Together, they went into the back room and took a rickety staircase to the second floor which could be rented as an apartment. Well, rented to somebody who was extremely desperate to live with a roof overhead. It was one room with a small bathroom attached. There was a sink, a miniature fridge, and a stove to pass as a kitchen and one dirty mattress pushed in the corner. Next to it was a locked chest. There was a more obvious feature to the room, however.

Sitting in one of the fold up chairs with a gun aimed at the door was none other than Michelle Hanna.

"Michelle," Deeks said in surprise, although it came out more like a grunt.

Michelle got out of her chair and embraced Sam in a tight hug. Then the CIA operative gave him a curt nod as a greeting. "How bad is it?"

"Bad," Sam echoed absentmindedly.

"They found OSP," Deeks elaborated, "which means that every operative out there is left in the cold- including Kensi and Callen."

"We lost contact with G during an op investigation the Salinas Cartel. Nothing's for sure, but one thing we do know is that we have to find them."

"I brought clothes…extra ammo…the works," Michelle said as she handed her husband a bulging duffle bag.

"You need to get out of town for a few days with the kids until it's safe. Please."

She brought Sam into a loving kiss and patted his chest. "I'm only a call away. Here's your new burner phone."

Michelle handed him the small piece of plastic that couldn't have cost more than twenty bucks.

He smiled. "I know."

"I'd really hoped that it would never come to this."

With that, Michelle left the pair alone to rejuvenate. Sam quickly opened up a can of soup in a pot over the stove and then set to work on emptying the duffle bag. Deeks struggled to lift his blood-stained shirt over his head, pain radiating in his arm. He couldn't hide the bleeding wound from Sam, who immediately set to work on cleaning it out without a word at the table.

"What is this place exactly?"

"I saved the owner's life on a mission during my SEAL days. When Michelle and I got married, we agreed to have a safe house just in case anything ever happened to one of us in our line of work. He offered up this apartment as said safehouse," Sam explained, stitching up the wound.

Deeks winced. "Does Callen know about it?"

Sam nodded. "The problem is we have to find them. Even if Callen and Kensi managed to get away from the Salinas Cartel, there would be no way of them knowing what happened to OSP."

The detective let this all sink in. The smell of cheap chicken noodle soup wafted around the apartment until Sam finally served it to him in a plastic cup. It wasn't exactly a five star restaurant, but Deeks was so hungry he didn't care. They sipped on their dinner in silence for the most part.

"How's the arm?"

Deeks flexed his muscle, and a wave a pain took over. "It'll be a problem. I'm not as good with my left."

Sam muttered something unintelligible and then continued, "You better get good quick. Tomorrow we start at the warehouse and follow the road that Nell told us about."

"I'm good to go now. Every second we waste is only endangering them further," Deeks protested, eyes shining with despair.

The senior agent's eyes softened a little. "I'm worried about them too. But we need our rest. If they hit OSP, you can bet that every member of the Salinas Cartel is going to be on the lookout for us. And that's a gun fight we have to be ready for."

Deeks checked his weapon mournfully, his thoughts never leaving the unknown fate of their friends both at the mission and in the cold.


	3. Missing

**Author's Note:**

**Thank you all for the continuing support. Hope you enjoy.**

**-C**

* * *

"I need to see Eric Beale!" A petite woman demanded. The nurses at Pacific Beach Medical were working double overtime with the influx of people from an explosion downtown. A constant flow of loved ones had come in, asking for updates on their family members. Too many were left sobbing in the morgue.

But none of these family members had quite the determination of Nell Jones when her friends were in danger.

"Ma'am, we're a little busy right now," a nurse impatiently warded her off.

"Hannah," a voice of disapproval sounded a few feet behind Nell. "This woman is obviously hurt and needs some assistance."

Nell spun around and found an aged, stereotypical doctor approaching them. A pencil was tucked behind his gray hair and a stethoscope lay wrapped around his neck.

"Come with me, miss," he asked, and led her to a private room.

Nell dabbed at the blood dripping from her nose. She hadn't given it much attention since the building came crashing down. At the time it just wasn't important.

"I'm fine, really. But I need to find-" Nell insisted.

"I know. Henrietta is an old friend of mine."

The intelligence analyst raised her eyebrows in surprise. She hadn't seen her boss at all.

"And yes, she is alright. She mentioned something about taking care of some agents still in the field."

Nell breathed a sigh of relief despite the situation.

"Let me have a look at you and then I'll help you find your friends," the doctor promised. He reached to tilt Nell's head back but she stopped him.

"Wait, who are you?"

"Doctor Ben Sullivan. My brother was once an NCIS agent."

* * *

Deeks blinked his eyes against the sunshine streaming into the rundown apartment. He automatically reached next to him, searching for Kensi. He realized with a frown that he was still partially living in dream world, where their thing was figured out.

"Good, you're awake."

The blond rolled over on the floor to find Sam anxiously making origami out of the soup can labels. The ex-Navy SEAL kept glancing towards the door, half-expecting somebody to open it.

"Good morning to you too," Deeks grumbled.

"We have to move soon," Sam ignored his jest. "Members of the Salinas came knocking last night a few times. They know we're close."

The detective rubbed the exhaustion out of his eyes and rubbed his numb arm. It was hanging uselessly at his side. "How did they find us so quickly?"

"We knew this was a dangerous mission from the start." Sam shook his head absentmindedly. "They have eyes everywhere."

Deeks found himself standing up and stretching out, sore from a night of uncomfortable rest. "We need to get moving as soon as possible. Is there any place where Callen would know to meet you in a time of emergency?"

"Besides here? No. None for something like this."

The two agents were forced into silence, thinking about the gravity of the situation. Deeks limped his way over to the window and gazed below. The streets were nearly empty.

Suddenly, a beeping noise shook the two from silence. With a surprised expression, Sam reached into one of the bags and pulled out a burn phone. He murmured something unintelligible and snapped the phone shut. He dug out a change of clothes and tossed them at Deeks.

"What is it?" He asked.

"We just got a text with an address from it. I think it's from Hetty."

* * *

"What's the problem here?" Kensi asked with growing anticipation. She could no longer hear Sam or Deeks talking in the background. And because that was highly unlikely, it meant that there was a com failure.

"The problem?" Axel scoffed. He beckoned his guys with the sound of a whistle. Two men appeared from the back room with Patrick Lawrence hanging in between them. He was beaten and bruised with blood streaming down his face. "You two are federal agents."

Simultaneously, all the men in the room drew their side arms.

"This is obviously a misunderstanding," Callen spat. "Torture will get you answers to make the pain stop, not necessarily the truth."

Kensi knew he was trying to buy them time. Deeks and Sam would take notice of the communication failure and would come in to save the day.

"Special Agent Callen," Axel chuckled darkly. "You're backup outside won't get here in time." The cold-blooded man aimed his gun directly at Kensi's head. "Shut up and walk. Otherwise I will put a bullet in Agent Blye's pretty skull."

Reluctantly, Callen and Kensi raised their hands in surrender above their heads. Two of the men approached them and roughly searched them for any weapons. Once their SIG Sauers were removed, the two agents were corralled into one of the three SUVs waiting in the warehouse.

Kensi was forced into the middle of seat in between two burly men who had their guns pressed into her side. They made a quick work of zip-tying her hands in front of her. Meanwhile, Callen was secured to the door in the front seat. The caravan took off, carrying the two agents further and further away from help.

"This is insane," Callen mused. "We're expanding your business, and this is how you repay us?"

"Shut up," the driver growled.

Kensi took note of their surroundings. They were in a pretty run down section of Los Angeles, and Axel was not in the car with them. Thank goodness, because the rest of his men seemed pretty thick to be working for a notorious cartel.

"Got a plan?" She asked. Their cover was blown- it was no use pretending otherwise.

"He said shut up!" The man to her left repeated and drove a hard blow across her mouth.

Kensi bit back the discomfort. The metallic taste filled her mouth until blood was drizzling out of the corner of her mouth.

Callen seemed to be taking note of every turn the driver made. They were speeding along back roads close to a car demolishing site. She recognized the calculating look in his eyes. As the SUV in the front of the caravan made a sharp turn right, the team leader made eye contact through the rearview mirror.

"I'm sorry, Kens."

He lashed out with his foot and struck the driver across the jaw, easily breaking it as they made the turn. Callen then hooked part of the steering wheel and yanked it hard to one side. In combination of the turn and them traveling at 60 miles per hour approximately, the car flipped over itself several times. At last, it landed belly-side up with a ground.

Kensi lost all sense of orientation. She didn't know which way was up, what was down, where her enemies were. Her already fuzzy vision was growing steadily worse until the whole world was spinning. Looking down, she could see that her ankle was twisted in the wrong direction. Bile rose in her throat as a red hot pain electrocuted her whole leg.

"Callen?" She choked out, trying to untangle herself from the mass of limbs.

He didn't reply. In the dimming of her sight, she made out his unmoving form tossed in the front seat like a ragdoll.

"Callen…" she drifted off, her head lolloping to one side.

* * *

"Deeks are you done yet?" Sam complained, keeping an eye out the window.

"This isn't all that easy with a half-useless arm," Deeks protested, pulling a shirt over his head.

"I hope you're a good shot with your left. Because we have company."

* * *

Kensi was roughly shaken back into the world when fierce hands dragged her out onto the pavement beside the car.

"Come on, Kens. We gotta get moving," a familiar voice prompted.

The brunette blinked against the rain that was starting to pour down onto them. A revving engine in the distance brought her back to reality, and she found the strength to roll over and try to push herself up. When the slightest weight was applied to her ankle, Kensi shrieked in pain and collapsed from her push-up position.

Callen lifted her off the ground and into a standing position. She heavily leaned on his side as they limped away from the wreck. Kensi eyed the automatic weapon that the team leader managed to salvage.

It was growing dark quickly, and the outlines of Axel's men had almost disappeared. But Kensi knew it wasn't long before they would catch up.

As they headed for the car demolition plant, Kensi couldn't help but wish for a dozen more of those automatic weapons. They would need them before the night was over.

"Deeks and Sam?" Kensi asked with a grunt.

"No sign of them," Callen panted. The brunette wondered how badly he was hurt.

She risked a look behind them to find that the men were quickly gaining.

**So I had a review from somebody saying that they were a bit confused by the timeline. I'm sorry if that goes the same for others. Basically, text in the normal font is what is happening to the characters in the POV currently or from where we left off. Italics means that it occurred in the past, and unless specified otherwise, usually earlier on in the day. Sorry for the confusion! And more will be revealed as the story goes on!**


	4. Coming

**Author's Note:**

**Please let me know what you guys think! Other than the AP exams in May, I'll be able to update more frequently.**

**-C**

* * *

"Fire escape?" Deeks offered, shouldering their duffle bag of ammunition. Could this situation get any worse?

"Too predictable," Sam waved the idea away. "We need to get to the roof."

"Trapping ourselves three stories up is not my idea of an escape," the blond grumbled. If the older man heard him, he gave no indication. But years of working with the ex-Navy SEAL had taught Deeks to go with your first gut instinct. He would get them out of here.

Sam tossed Deeks a SIG for precaution and led the way out of the apartment. As soon as the door opened to the second floor, Deeks heard the shouting of angry men. He wasn't fluent in Spanish, but he didn't need to be a linguist to know that it wouldn't end well for him and Sam if they were caught.

Sam ushered Deeks down the hall and through a rusted over door. While the senior agent picked at the lock at the top of the stairs, Deeks barricaded the door with a metal pipe. It wouldn't hold for long.

"Let's move, Deeks," Sam called down to him from on top of the stairs. As the voices drew nearer, the detective launched himself up the steps faster than he would have thought possible in his condition. He didn't think the gash was that bad upon initial inspection; his dizziness and fatigue told him otherwise.

The daylight nearly blinded him as they walked to the middle of the roof. Deeks drew his weapon and watched the door while Sam searched for an escape route.

"Anything?" Deeks called out. A chorus of Spanish followed.

"I have an idea."

"Good," the detective began. A crash erupted from underneath their feet "Because we'll have company any second."

Waiting for Sam's response, Deeks followed the direction from where his voice came from. He was bent off the edge of the convenience store, and the detective's stomach dropped. He had a bad feeling he knew what Sam's plan was. Deeks trotted over to his coworker to find him analyzing a jump across an alley to the nearest building rooftop.

"That's easily fifteen feet."

"Nineteen," Sam corrected. He took the pack off and flung it over to the other roof. "I'll go first." The military man backed up ten yards, made a sprint, and leaped off the side of the building. Deeks caught his breath as he watched his friend soaring over the alleyway. It seemed to take eternity for Sam to finally fall into a roll on the other side.

"Come on Deeks!" Sam pressed, waving his arms in beckoning.

"'Join NCIS' they said," Deeks muttered. He unslung his own bag and flung it using his left arm. He backed up to where Sam had moments before and exhaled deeply. Maybe with a good night's rest and in full health he could. But with an injured arm and dizzy enough already? This was stretching it. Not even the adrenaline could save him this time.

"Deeks!" Sam shouted impatiently.

The blond murmured a prayer and took off running.

The door was slammed open behind him.

Deeks planted his dominant foot and sprung from the rooftop.

Angry curses.

He was soaring over the alley.

Gun shots.

He was falling.

* * *

"Forgive my prying, but were you related to Agent Christopher Sullivan?" Nell inquired, flinching away from the doctor's touch.

He nodded glumly. "I met Henrietta at his funeral. She still blames herself for his death, you know."

"I do."

"Unfortunately she hasn't listened to me in telling her that it wasn't. Chris knew what he was getting himself into."

"How did you know to find me?" Nell questioned skeptically. She knew that anybody could be trying to get close to them, especially after what had transpired.

"When Chris died, she asked me what she could do for my family and I. My father was very sick with cancer, so it didn't seem like I would be able to finish medical school. She agreed to pay for the rest of it. Over the years we've kept in touch."

Catching on, Nell finished. "So you had an agreement that if something were to happen to Ops, she knew that we would end up in the hospital and you would take care of us."

"It's more than that, I'm afraid. She also left strict instructions. Up until a few years ago, they were for a man by the name of Nathaniel Getz. That name changed to Nell Jones."

"What kind of instructions?" Nell raised an eyebrow.

Doctor Sullivan reached into his coat pocket and retrieved a small envelope. Giving it a sad look, as if he never believed it would come to this, he turned it over once and handed it to her.

"I haven't opened that. But I think you should. After all, there's still a federal agency to run."

* * *

Deeks thought he was going to die. With bullets hailing left and right and him hanging three stories above an alley way in downtown Los Angeles, things weren't exactly looking optimistic. He closed his eyes, ready for impact by pavement or bullet.

What he got instead was a wrenching feeling in his arm as his shoulder was wrenched from its socket.

The detective let out a cry of agony, nearly blinded from the pain. He was hastily pulled up and hauled over the side of the guardrail. Deeks remained on the ground, holding his completely useless right arm. Sam took cover behind the three foot wall that acted as a safety rail and fired shot after shot at the approaching hostiles.

It felt like somebody had poured acid in his ball and socket join, forcing Deeks to go rigid and emitting cries of pain through clenched teeth.

"I know you're hurt, but in five seconds we have to make a run for the AC unit," Sam urged.

Deeks glanced over his shoulder to see the metal box Sam was referring to. It would provide ample cover long enough for them to make a dash down the fire escape on the opposite side of the roof top.

"…three," Sam warned.

The blond forced himself into a squatting position.

"Two…one!"

In a spray of bullets, the two launched themselves forward. They ran for several yards before finally reaching their target relatively unscathed. Deeks panted, still in a vast amount of pain.

"Cover me," Sam said.

Deeks drew his gun, holding it tightly in his left hand. "Go!"

He fired semi-aimlessly, hoping to buy Sam enough time to reach the edge of the fire escape. A few stray bullets from the enemy ricocheted off of the pavement inches away from Sam's feet, but Deeks could tell that in combination of the angle and distance, it was getting harder for the shots to be accurate.

"Now!" Sam called.

Deeks tore off in the direction of his friend, exactly in the same manner. He swore he felt the heated metal of a bullet knick his ankle however he didn't wait around to check. The detective reached Sam's position at a blinding speed.

"Go, go, go!" He motioned for the blond to follow through on his path towards the fire escape. Deeks managed to work through the pain in his dislocated arm and climb down the metal stairs. It wasn't long before Sam joined him at the bottom.

"Let's go," Deeks panted breathlessly.

Sam nodded in agreement and they took off down the street.

* * *

Kensi hissed in pain as a new wave of iron-hot pain exploded in her ankle. It had to be broken, there was no doubt about that. Callen rushed them along towards the main building of the car demolition plant faster.

"I'm sorry Kensi, we have to keep moving."

"I know," she replied through thinly pressed lips.

They limped to the back door of the offices and Callen made quick work of breaking the lock. With a flash of lightning, Kensi saw that a coating of blood marred the left side of his face. She used the wall for support to maneuver herself into the single room. Not looking at the floor, she knocked her injured foot against a box. With a cry of agony, Kensi sank to the ground.

"If I help you there, can you hotwire a car?" Callen asked, taking a look outside the window.

Kensi nodded wordlessly, still fighting her way through the pain.

Callen lifted Kensi up by the arms and supported her weight as they made their way to several cars in the garage area. He set her down in the front seat of the car and returned to the window with the semi-automatic weapon they stole.

"Here they come," he muttered lowly.


	5. Progressing

**Author's Note:**

**Thank you guys so much for all your support! This chapter mostly focuses on Callen and Kensi, so I hope you like it. Please let me know what you want to see improved or what you like!**

**-C**

Sam and Deeks ran several blocks, finally losing the Salinas cartel amongst the Los Angeles traffic and back alleys. Even after growing up in the city, Deeks had no idea where they were. It was a combination of everything that had transpired in the past forty-eight hours and the blinding pain in his useless arm, but the blond had a festering feeling of despair.

"Now what?" Deeks panted as they ducked behind a kiosk selling over-priced shirts for tourists. He held his right arm in his left, trying to take some of the pressure off of his dislocated shoulder.

Sam looked around before answering, "Now we go to the safe house Hetty told us about. We should take a taxi about four blocks out and walk the rest of the way. You think you can handle that?"

Deeks nodded. "We can regroup and then begin hunting for Kens and Callen."

The two made their way over to the curb where somebody was just exiting the yellow vehicle. The blond grimaced as he hit his arm against the car door. He was thankful that the taxi driver didn't notice. He was barely keeping his head raised Deeks was so fatigued.

Sam relayed the address and patted his temporary partner on his good arm. Deeks acknowledged it, thankful for his friend's support. It was quite remarkable how much their friendship had progressed since first meeting.

Deeks rested his head against the window, closing his eyes against the pain. But he was not trying to protect himself from the shooting agony in his arm, rather against the fact that he had no idea where Kensi was, and even if she was still al-

_No, _Deeks berated himself. He had to stop thinking that way.

"She can take care of herself, you know."

The sound of Sam's voice broke Deeks out of his thoughts. The detective smirked.

"Trust me when I say I know that better than anybody else."

"How much ammunition do we have?" Kensi questioned, looking around the vicinity for anything that could help her break open the compartment and then hotwire the car.

"Not enough," Callen grimly replied.

The brunette reached for her gun that wasn't there. She cursed vulgarly, as shifting her weight to reach for a crow bar sent hot pain up her leg. Kensi began trembling, and it took everything from crying out.

"Hand me a gun," Kensi demanded once she broke the barrier and was able to access the wires for the car.

"You can't keep your hands still," Callen argued, reloading the semi-automatic weapon.

"Try me," she protested.

The team leader smirked, but it didn't last long. Something sounded from outside, causing Callen to lunge from his cover and shoot through an open window. Kensi heard the dying cries of a man and returned to her work.

Suddenly gun fire erupted, bullets flying into the shop. Kensi covered her head and sank lower in the car seat in attempt to protect herself. Rounds shattered the windows, causing a hail of glass to rain down on her. The special agent ignored the superficial cuts and forced the two wires together.

The engine sputtered and rumbled to life with protest. Kensi turned back to see Callen taking cover underneath the window, occasionally firing rounds into the night. It wouldn't be long before the Salinas Cartel realized that there was only one shooter.

Kensi climbed out of the car and used the nearby trollies of equipment or other vehicles to hop along towards the desks. She collapsed behind one, searching the drawers for a box cutter. She seriously doubted that there would be anything better in the garage. Finally finding her target, Kensi had all of two seconds to flick the blade open when the back door burst open.

She pulled her arm back and expertly let the weapon fly towards the assailant. Callen turned from the window just long enough to see the man fall with a bright green handle sticking out of his jugular vein. Kensi didn't waste time celebrating her victory and moved towards the car once again.

"Nice hit," Callen congratulated.

She snatched the crowbar from where she had let it clatter on the concrete floor and didn't reply. The brunette saw a shadow quickly growing on the wall in the moonlight. Moving into position, once again using piles of crates for support, Kensi was poised and ready to strike.

The cartel member didn't make it two feet before being smacked with the crowbar. Because of the poor lighting, Kensi misjudged where his head was and instead hit his torso. She didn't have the upper hand for long, for the malefactor rapidly recovered

He caught Kensi's next strike on the long barrel of his shotgun and disarmed her. The Salinas Cartel member landed a punch to her nose, instantly breaking it and resulting in her collapse to the ground. Kensi would have normally struck at the assailant's ankles with her leg and caused them to fall as well, but the weakness in her dominant foot rendered the blow useless. He didn't even stumble. The brunette made a desperate reach for the crowbar, a teasingly few inches away from her outstretched fingers. She gasped as she felt the man's weight on her chest, and then pain when he punched her across the jaw.

Kensi spat blood in his face, but he just hit her harder. Suddenly, the man collapsed against her body. It took all of her remaining strength to push the lifeless corpse off of her. Standing above her, gun still raised, was Callen.

"Need some help?" He extended a hand.

Kensi gratefully took it and fell into his body trying to keep the weight off of her ankle.

"Would it have killed you to help me three punches ago?" She grimaced.

"We need to-"

Callen was abruptly cut off as another hail of bullets sailed into the garage. They must have been reloading at the time Kensi was fighting the cartel member. The team leader hauled her to the side towards the car in attempt to find cover.

They didn't make it two steps when Callen grunted and hit the ground.

"No!" Kensi yelled in desperation. She sank to the concrete after him, but Callen was already getting right back up.

"It's a leg wound. I'm fine," he gruffly dismissed her. Out of pure adrenaline, the team leader dragged Kensi towards the still-running SUV and practically shoved her inside. Callen climbed in the driver's seat and hit the accelerator. He blasted through the deteriorating garage door and back onto the deserted road.

Bullets from unseen assailants implanted themselves in the car's body. Kensi snatched the semi-automatic from Callen's lap and returned fire in unforgivable night. They thought they were in the clear when a hiss from the engine accompanied with rising smoke told them otherwise.

"Shit!" Kensi exclaimed, smacking the dashboard in anger.

"I'll take it as far as we can go, and then we need to find someplace to rest, preferably a motel," Callen said in a resolved tone.

"Where are Deeks and Sam? Why haven't they done anything?" Kensi shot Callen a look.

He shook his head. "Our cover was blown. I wouldn't be surprised if they found out about them too."

"But that doesn't explain why they weren't with us or why Hetty didn't send anybody else!" Kensi threw her hands up in frustration. She was in pain, fatigued, and more importantly worried about her partner.

"What do you want me to tell you, Kensi!?" Callen snapped, taking one hand off the steering wheel to hold to his thigh. Blood gushed from in between his fingers, soaking his pants.

Kensi sank back into the seat, letting her head fall against the bullet-torn leather. Her ankle began throbbing uncontrollably, almost sending her into delirium.

"Did you hear me?" Callen asked.

Kensi shuddered, waking from her stupor. "Sorry, what?"

"There's a motel about five blocks from here. We have to ditch the car," he repeated as he pulled off to the side of the road.

Kensi looked behind them as the agent in charge got out of the car and limped over to the other side of the car. She couldn't see any sign of cartel members, but she caught herself wondering how long that would last.


	6. Gone

**Author's Note:**

**Enjoy! Thank you everybody! Feed-back means a lot to me, so please let me know what you think- even if it's to correct me!**

-C

"Kensi!?" Deeks called, throwing open the door. He heard Sam's mutter of disproval, but the blond really didn't care. He was having a really, really bad day and all that mattered at this point was finding his partner.

"Just announce to the world that we're here, would you?" Sam glowered. His intense training protocols were just violated to every sense of the final degree. The ex-Navy SEAL shut the door behind them softly and pocketed the keys.

Deeks ignored Sam and continued to search the barren house. It was a little better than some of the safe houses he had stayed at, but certainly wasn't meant to be a home to anyone. He trotted into the kitchen only to find a fridge, a stove, a sink, and a microwave. There weren't even any chairs to accompany the fold-up card table.

He turned around to say something to Sam; the special agent was nowhere to be seen. Deeks poked his head down the hall and saw the man returning from the bathroom with several towels and a med kit.

"Sit on the couch. I'm going to have to fix your arm," he said.

Deeks couldn't help but gulp. He didn't do well with needles.

He found himself following the older man's instructions anyway.

"Here," Sam placed a wadded up wash cloth in Deeks's good hand.

"What's this for?"

The look Sam gave him answered the question. "That bad?"

"We don't want to alarm the neighbors," he replied seriously.

Deeks nodded, mentally preparing himself. He folded the cloth and clenched it between his teeth.

Sam placed one firm hand behind Deek's shoulder and the other on his upper arm. With a firm jerk, Deeks felt the joint click back together with excruciating pain. His cry was still loud, even when muted by the towel. When he thought he was ready, Deeks removed the cloth and threw it against the couch cushions.

"Try extending it," Sam encouraged.

With a grunt, Deeks forced his arm forward so it was nearly in his make-shift doctor's lap.

Sam nodded, as if approving his own handiwork. He reached into the med kit and pulled out a needle and thread. When turning back to Deeks, the military man laughed at his paling face.

"I'm glad you find amusement out of my pain," Deeks snapped good-naturedly.

Sam gave him a sullen smirk, "We need something to smile about even in these kinds of situations."

"What are you laughing about?" Callen asked with a grunt as they limped forward another step.

"We just passed a restaurant Deeks and I order from a lot," Kensi grinned through a face full of blood and pain.

"All the way out here? Ow, ow, ow!" Callen broke off, exclaiming as they failed to clear a curb leading to a parking lot.

"You good?"

"Fine."

Kensi looked at the cheap motel that they had chosen as their hiding place. The parking lot was paved with cigarette ash and beer bottles, and the neon sign advertising the joint read: MOL. Occasionally the 'T' would flicker to life with those pulsing red lights. A couple, an old man and a woman way too young for him, were getting extremely intimate on the hood of a pizza delivery car.

"It's the only place we can get the Drunken Pigs," Kensi continued to explain.

"Drunken what?"

Kensi didn't try to describe their Yummy Yummy Heart Attack nights further. She supported Callen the best she could on his left side, but the pain was intensifying in her ankle. Frankly she was amazed she made it this far without passing out.

They were approaching the desk when Kensi said, "Wait out here."

Callen stopped her. "You'll need this." He slapped a wad of bills into her palm. It might have been enough to get them through one night, but there would be no change left over. Kensi pocketed it and tucked the gun in her waistband.

"I'll be back."

Her ankle protested any kind of movement, but she trudged on. An obese man with grease stains on his gray shirt was manning the front desk. He eyed Kensi hungrily, making her wriggle with disgust. She limped over to him and nearly collapsed against the counter.

"I need a room for the night," she gritted through her teeth.

"What happened to you, Sugar?" The man questioned.

"Surfing accident. Can you give me a room or not?"

"That's gonna be…"

His words came out empty to Kensi. Her whole leg was trembling and the already unbearable agony was getting worse. She felt like throwing up.

"Are you listening to me sweetheart?" The clerk demanded. "I said that's gonna be eighty-five bucks for the night. A hundred for no name," he winked.

Kensi was running out of patience. Her vision was blurred vermillion and her head pounded.

She slapped fifty dollars on the counter and swept her shirt aside to show her weapon. "How about fifty and you keep all your blood on the inside of your body?"

His piggish eyes darted from the weapon to Kensi's perspiring face. He took a key off the rack and threw it to her as if merely doing so would make him get some terrible disease. After grumbling a curt thank-you, Kensi limped towards the door. Her leg finally gave out and she fell against the glass door with a grunt.

She didn't remember how, but she was suddenly lying face up on the ground. And then everything spun together until a curtain of darkness fell unto her.

"Advil?" Sam proffered, holding out his palm with the tiny orange pills.

Deeks nodded gratefully and accepted the pain relievers. After dry-swallowing them, Sam joined him on the couch next to him. The ex-Navy SEAL didn't realize that the program the detective was so eagerly watching was a news report on a gas explosion. If only civilians knew that it was caused by a cartel. If only they knew that dozens died working in that building. Two days ago, or any other year.

"I wish I could say that I knew they'd be okay," Deeks finally spoke over the news reporter.

"Kensi and Callen?"

"Yes, but they're not the only ones, Sam. What about Eric and Nell? Hetty? What if they have injuries worse than this?" Deeks moved his bandaged arm, which was now in a sling. "They beat us."

"Maybe," Sam acknowledged. "But we're not dead. And as long as that remains, we keep fighting."

Kensi heard the television blaring and the smell of blood in the air when she first awoke. Her reflexes kicked in, and she immediately bolted up. Instead of finding herself in danger, Kensi was in an uncomfortable bed in a dirty motel room. She located Callen through the open bathroom door. His leg was propped up against the counter and was cleaning out the gun shot wound.

"Callen?" Kensi croaked, her throat dry.

He retracted his leg from the sink area and limped towards her. "Are you alright?"

"My ankle hurts like a bitch."

The team leader chuckled, but cut off when something on the news caught his attention.

_"Up next, more on the gas explosion at the condemned building. The final flames were put out in the early hours of last night soon after the authorities arrived. As of now, there seems to be limited casualties from pedestrians walking by, but nothing is confirmed."_

There was an outdated clip of a burning building consuming the small television screen. Kensi found herself gaping at it.

"That's-"

"OSP," Kensi finished with a hollow heart. "Everybody's gone."


	7. What Lurks in the Shadows

**Author's Note:**

**Hey everybody. I can't apologize enough for the long wait. Part of that is due to a concussion I have recently sustained, and haven't been able to concentrate on anything for a while. Despite that, I hope you enjoy and thank you all again for the continued support.**

**-C**

"How could this happen?" Kensi demanded of nobody, still staring open-mouthed at the television screen.

"We knew the Salinas Cartel was dangerous, but I never thought…" the team leader trailed off. He broke off abruptly and drove a fist into the wall with a cry of rage. The plaster crumbled underneath his strength, leaving his knuckles ripped and bloody.

"Callen!" she cried exasperatedly. They both had serious injuries, it was plain idiotic to further hurt themselves. He began pacing the length of the hotel room, not taking his eyes off the news report.

Kensi stared into space, letting the words sink in. They kept repeating themselves over and over in her head but it didn't make sense no matter how many times she silently said them. She held her head in her hands, surprised to find that her fingers were suddenly damp. Trembling, Kensi stared down at them, coated with tears. A few more fell to the sheets below, creating tiny puddles.

"If this happened then nobody's coming for us," Kensi let the fear roll of her tongue. "We're on our own."

"No!" Callen insisted. "Hetty will have a back-up plan. She always does."

The brunette swallowed a lump of grief. "We don't know if-"

"Don't say it," G protested. He finally sat down on the chair in the corner with his foot tapping relentlessly. "There's another way."

"What are you talking about? We can't use our phones," Kensi reminded him. She had never seen Callen in such a state of emotional disarray. Even though her head was fleeting with worst-case-scenario situations and tears were streaming from her eyes, it was part of her job to keep her friend from doing anything stupid.

"Not phones," Callen said. "Sam and I have a safe house location in case anything went wrong. If he and Deeks made it out, they'll be waiting for us there."

"Can you make it?" Kensi inquired, testing her injured ankle on the carpet. With a hiss of pain, she quickly retracted it.

"Can you?"

"I'm worried about them," Deeks said absentmindedly. "It's been almost forty-eight hours."

"Thirty-six," Sam corrected.

"We need to go looking for them," the blond suddenly sprung out of his seat.

"Deeks, listen to me. I know you hate sitting still, but it's the best thing to do. They'll figure out things have gone wrong and will come find us. Callen knows how to follow a trail."

"And what if they didn't get away from the Salinas Cartel? What if they're injured?"

"Tell you what," Sam began. "If they're not here by tomorrow morning I'll go looking for them."

"Okay, good." Deeks agreed. He stayed silent for a moment, and then caught onto what his temporary partner just said. "Wait, just you?"

"You're injured and need to be here in case they do show up."

"I need to be there for her," he insisted vehemently. Deeks sank back into the couch.

"For her?" Sam repeated, raising an eyebrow.

"For Kensi, for Callen, for our family."

"It depends," Kensi admitted. "How far away are we from this safehouse?"

"By the time we steal a car, ditch it, and then walk to the apartment, you're going to need a splint of some kind to get through it."

He grabbed the wooden chair off the ground and immediately snapped two of its legs over his thigh. Kensi sank back onto the edge of the bed, grimacing with pain. She propped up her wounded ankle and allowed Callen to bind it using duct tape and the broken chair legs.

"I'm no doctor, but it's the best I can do," the team leader mumbled.

Kensi tentatively put a little weight on her injured foot. A new wave of pain shot up it. Growling with stubborn rage, the brunette proceeded to half launch herself off the bed. The agony was like nothing she ever felt before, but she managed to take a few labored steps to the door.

"You good?"

"No. How can we be?"

"Touché. Come on, let's go."

Kensi froze with her hand lingering on the door handle. She couldn't bring herself to open it.

"Something wrong?" Callen inquired, putting a light hand on her shoulder.

"That was something Deeks was say is all," Kensi brushed him off and left the crappy motel room.

The image of Ops burning was imprinted in her mind, no matter how hard she tried to push it out. It had been her home for several years now. But this wasn't about some building, because they had moved before. They were done. There was no going back after this. And even if there was, would there be anybody to go back to? Or would all the new faces and not enough of the old ones ultimately be their undoing?

"Shut up," Kensi berated herself.

"What was that?" Callen asked as he smashed open a window to a car.

"Nothing."

Deeks was always the optimistic one. Sometimes he rubbed off on her and other times in a situation like this it failed. Was he in the building when…no. He couldn't have been. Deeks was still alive, Kensi could feel it.

Callen killed the alarm and quickly got the engine going. It wasn't long before the pair were tearing down the backstreets of Los Angeles blindly. Kensi trusted her friend's instincts, but she still had a bad feeling about taking this particular route when the cartel was so closely on their heels. If they found Ops, then they could easily find them.

"We're almost there, let's get rid of the car and move out," Callen finally broke the silence.

He turned off the road and ended up underneath a bridge. With some great effort, the two hiked back towards the street and began making their way in the direction of the safe house. Kensi limped heavily, her leg going numb with the pain. When the high velocity round had cracked her rib she thought that was bad. Now she would gladly have that three times over.

"Stay close to me and try not to limp," Callen said lowly.

She nodded a response and fell slightly into his body, although it was a little uncomfortable. Kensi wasn't used to leaning on anyone like this except for Deeks. Callen wrapped an arm around her waist, trying to take some of the weight off her ankle. Although he would never admit it, she could tell that he was hurting too.

Kensi narrowed her eyes at a man standing outside a closed shop, his face only lit by the glowing embers of his cigarette. The smoke nearly choked her, and her heart began pounding against her chest. For comfort, she began reaching for her gun but Callen's hand promptly stopped her.

They were growing closer. Kensi's anxiety rose.

He was in striking distance.

A puff of smoke bombarded their orifices.

She was waiting for something to happen. It never came.

Suddenly, they were several yards past the man, and continuing on their way.

Kensi exhaled deeply- a feeble attempt to calm her nerves. Her eyes darted around, searching for predators. She knew how to take care of herself, so it wasn't the slums that made her chest tighten. It wasn't that she was afraid of the dark either- it was whatever lurked unseen in the shadows. And Kensi had the overwhelming sensation that they were being watched.

"We're here," Callen at last said.

They were standing outside of a convenience store that had seen better days. Hand -painted signs hung sideways almost covering the cracks in the windows. Callen carefully pushed open the door, surprise to find it was unlocked.

Callen lead the way into the store, but it was completely abandoned. Even if something was arranged with the owner, he should have been here if Sam and Deeks took refuge. Kensi remained in the doorway, eyeing her surroundings suspiciously. Her gaze rested on the cracks in the glass. She ran a hand over them, surprise to find holes in the center of the spider web complex.

Bullets.

"What the-?" Callen began as Kensi heard something snap.

On a pure adrenaline rush, the brunette grabbed G by the shoulders and hauled him backwards and out of the store, just as they were thrown back into the middle of the street by an explosion that sent them both spiraling into darkness.

"I can't wait here any longer," Deeks complained not for the first time.

"So you've said," Sam snapped. "I'm worried about them too, Deeks. I get it. But whining about it won't get us anywhere."

"Do you remember what it felt like when our cover was blown, Michelle was left out in the operation, and there wasn't a damn thing you could do about it?"

Sam eyed him before nodding.

"Well that's what I'm feeling right now."

The Navy SEAL, despite his mood, smirked. "When were you gonna tell us that you and Kensi finally worked out your thing?"

"We haven't. And wait, how do you know about that?" Deeks inquired, crossing his arms.

"Deeks, everybody knows about it except you two." Sam concluded by clicking the ammunition into place. "I might as well go out looking for them. Stay here in case they get back."

Glad for the change in topic, Deeks asked, "And what exactly am I supposed to be doing until then?"

Sam grabbed a pen and slammed it down on the kitchen table in front of him. "I want you to write down every detail of the Salinas Cartel that you know."


	8. Spruce Street

**Author's Note:**

**Hi everybody. I know, long time no see (in a manner of speaking). Um, my excuse: concussion. So yeah. That's been painful, and I haven't exactly been able to write. Hope this chapter makes up for it- although it might not be that great in light of my headaches. **

**-C**

Deeks loved his job.

It wasn't about the recognition for helping other people or the awards. Certainly the pay didn't allure people to enter the fabulous world of law enforcement. More of a personal satisfaction that came at the end of the day of knowing that one less bad guy was roaming the streets, and couldn't harm the people who didn't sign up for this.

But then there were days where it kinda sucked.

With law enforcement came the wonderful world of covert operations and deception, even if it meant lying to your friends or family. Or worse- Kensi. Those days Deeks just forgot all the happy mumbo jumbo about personal satisfaction and protecting the streets and just wanted a beer and the opportunity to sleep in the next morning.

And then, on the rare occasion (however was becoming more and more frequent), were the days were the job really, _really _sucked.

Like yesterday and today. When in a single instance everything you knew and held close were rapidly being snatched away. When things fall apart…it couldn't have been much worse. His close friends were out on the street, unable to call for backup from NCIS or reach out to a hospital for any medical support. The Salinas Cartel would find them too easily, and then eliminate them as well.

So right now, the priority was to remain under a cloak of darkness and reunite with their comrades. Then, their strike to complete the mission, and perhaps a little revenge thrown in, would commence.

"Okay, Deeks, think. What do you remember about the Salinas Cartel?" He spoke aloud, pacing in front of a bare wall in the bedroom. He reached over with his good arm and took another spoonful of peanut butter, the only food the blond was able to find in the cover house. There had been no time for food, and he was starving.

"Tumo Salinas, last known leader," he muttered. He took the sharpie and quickly scribbled the name near the ceiling. "Second in command is Alvaroe, first name unknown."

He added that underneath Tumo Salinas's and drew a line connecting the two.

"There are three other familial connections within the main branch of the cartel. Antonio, Diego, and Ernesto Salinas."

Heart pounding, he wrote another name up on the wall. He stared at the messy letters and found himself standing nose to nose with the name. His eyes narrowed even further. "And I know you. Marcus Paley. Cop killer."

Kensi groaned, her head feeling as if something was pounding against her skull to get out. She groped for something, anything, to give her support. Loose gravel and rubble slipped through her fingers like sand.

"Callen?" she coughed, her eyes not yet adjusting to the fiery blaze from the store. After searching blindly with her hands for a few moments, she located a mass a few yards away from her.

She propelled herself forward with her good leg and collapsed next to Callen. Kensi flipped him on his back, trying to shake him awake.

"Come on, Callen!"

He was just stirring when she noticed the enormous shard of glass protruding from his abdomen.

"Oh no," she murmured, and put pressure around the wound.

Suddenly, somebody yanked her back by the shoulders threw her to the ground. Her vision was swimming with distorted color and images. She reached for some sort of weapon, anything would do, and found the metal of her gun. A foot clamped down on her wrist, stopping her from grasping it.

Headlights came exploding from around the corner accompanied by the sound of squealing tires. The cartel members dodged left and right to get out of the way, but Kensi couldn't count on the person in the car to be an ally. Kensi scrambled to her feet, lifted a disoriented Callen to a standing position, and looked left and right for a way out.

It was blaring headlights into their faces. A middle-aged man climbed out of the car, gaping at the scene.

Kensi screamed at him, "Get back in the car!"

The man eyed her gun for a brief moment before obeying. Kensi shoved Callen into the backseat ducked as a bullet shattered a window behind her. She returned fire briefly before diving into the vehicle as well, the driver taking off with tires squealing.

"Please, I don't want any trouble," he begged as Kensi slammed the door shut.

"We're federal agents sir, and I need you to calm down."

"Okay, okay, just please put your gun away," the man sobbed.

Feeling bad for the guy, Kensi did as he requested. "What's your name?"

"Brian. Listen, I don't know what happened back there, but those guys were shooting at us!"

"Kens?" Callen finally came round, grasping his stomach.

"Callen, quick, I need to know the address of the secondary safe house," Kensi said with concern.

He muttered the location before his head lolloped to the side once again.

Kensi repeated it to the driver up front. "Can you get us within five blocks of that?"

Brian nodded and sped off into the night. It didn't take too long before he threw the car in front of a dimly lit house. Kensi noticed that the sun was just rising above the clouds.

"Ditch the car and find a way home," Kensi said as parting words before dragging Callen out of the vehicle.

They had a rough start getting onto the curb, as both agents grunted with pain. Kensi's ankle felt like molten lead, unwilling to take another step forward. "Come on, Callen, I need you to pull your own weight here."

"Well this isn't exactly easy for me either," Callen mumbled.

"I can take the glass out," Kensi offered, stopping short.

"No," he protested. "We can't get blood or leave evidence anywhere if possible. The Salinas Cartel managed to find Ops. How connected do you think they are?"

Kensi grimaced. "Point taken."

"Move in step. I have a bullet in my left leg and your right ankle is broken. One of us supports the other when we move."

Kensi wasn't sure if Callen could take it with glass in his stomach, but she leaned more heavily on him anyways. Her head was spinning, and it wouldn't be long before her leg gave out completely from the searing agony.

They limped on, leaving their unwilling accomplice far behind them. Each step sent a new and worsening shot of pain through their already fatigued bodies. Five blocks seemed like five miles.

"I might pass out before we get there," Callen suddenly gasped. "It's a one story white house, the third from the corner. Spruce Street."

"Don't pass out on me," Kensi pleaded. "I can't drag the both of us there."

They were left in silence, as both became deadweight. Callen accidently rammed them into a street sign, for he could no longer keep his head raised. Kensi lifted her eyes to the words. Spruce Street.

Her eyes drifted towards a single story white house.

So close…

"Come on," Kensi said, with a new surge of strength.

They dragged on towards the structure. The two slipped on the wet grass from the morning dew and tumbled over each other in the front lawn. A man down the street eyed them warily as he headed into work.

Kensi crawled towards the front door with an arm underneath Callen's arms and hauled him behind her. Wordlessly, they managed to rise once more, leaning heavily on the doorframe. The brunette slammed her hand against the door three times, and waited.

Whoever, if anyone, was in the house must have not heard them. Kensi let her back fall against the door. Suddenly, it disappeared from under her, and she was caught by something else.

"Kensi!" A voice exclaimed.

"Deeks," Kensi replied, out of breath. Her eyes flickered from Deeks's looming face above hers and back at Callen. He was standing in the middle of the doorway, his hands wrapped around the shard of glass.

"Oh God, Callen," Deeks said. He propped Kensi up against the coffee table the best he could with one good arm and then turned his attention to their team leader, who pulled out the glass with a cry of agony. Callen let the bloodied glass slip from his fingers as he sank to his knees.


End file.
